Log 24: Some Movies, Anime And Fatigue

Wow did my give out and give in

Listening to: Mr. Magic (Through The Smoke) by Amy Winehouse

I love writing! I want to write it all, about it all!

I’m happy to say I’ve had genuine rest these past few weeks. I’ve been managing our store since the pandemic began, barely making ends meet. But I still have a few pleasures— every couple of months or so, I save extra money for pizza or my favorite iced café latte. Somedays, I only consolation I seem to have is that these sufferings of mine make for good stories. I write down them down for both personal documentation and for my sanity. Additionally, I could never sleep for very long.

I have severe insomnia, you see. This has its uses. It served the store well. We open 5:30 AM and close at 8:00 PM (plus 1 hour of documenting sales, one more hour of writing/studying). So it’s literally been work— 16 to 17 hours a day, 7 days a week for close to 3 years. And a challenge to sleep after. I barely sleep 4 hours a day. I could not usually surpass those hours. I’m fully aware that it’s sad and self-detrimental to use a sleep disorder for monetary benefit when I should focus on healing myself…

But for 6— maybe 8? I lost count!— days now, my sleeps have been long and peaceful. It’s been the best gift.

Every morning for three years, the same breakfast: P5 coffee from the coffee machine, and exact

This small blessing of a vacation time, I prepared everything so I won’t be bothered. And I’m having the most pandemic-safe, savings-safe activities I could think of: sleeping, watching movies, reflecting on what I’ve watched through journaling.

Here are some of my recommendations! (and one show we need to be aware of)

Wildhood

A boy does not know his roots. A boy has only known fear and cruelty at the hands of his father. The seed of queerness had begun to grow in him but it grows insecurely. Seemingly nurtured by his uncle who appears laughably brief in the film. That one single line that gives the viewer their first clue: “Gotta be some girl you got the hots for. Or someone.” But sadly damaged relentlessly by his father. Who pulls his blonde-dyed hair and curses (“What is this? You want everybody to think you’re a fruit, huh?”). His father, a teacher of crime (theft). His father, a punisher of what the he thinks a crime (queerness). And an absent mother saves his life.

The boy discovers birthday cards from his Mi'kmaw Mother and the potential that she might still be out there. He grabs his little brother and takes the chance. “Mother was the silent but powerful one who said find who you are,” Shirley MacLaine said on her AFI acceptance speech. “The profundity and power of the passive.”

Mother is memory in Wildhood. Memory provides him courage. The environment is his friend who nudges him to ponder on his queerness and heritage. And a new friend, the two-spirit vagabond Pasmay, looking for connections of his own, helps him.

Had a beautiful experience watching this ethereal film. Leo Koziol wrote the perfect description: "It’s a coming out film but there’s no coming out scene." Totally subdued and graceful. It's a quiet exploration that kept me hooked from beginning to end.

Natsume Yuujinchou

Cursed are we who see things many people can’t. Historically, we have revered them. Now, we call them deranged and insane. A boy in the modern age inherits a blessing gifted to shamans and prophets. He sees youkai, has seen them ever since he could remember. For that, community shuns him.

He’s finally taken care by distant relatives in rural Japan which too had once been home to his grandmother, Reiko. He discovers the Book of Friends, a compilation of youkai names his grandmother had collected in her youth. But names are sacred for the youkai and they are eager to have them returned. So, begins Natsume’s drive to return their names.

Like Wildhood, place is important for the soul’s nurturing. The youkai and the talents Natsume placed his energies to ignore and forget flourishes as he eventually befriends one.

The show is light, absent of bloodshed and apparent cruelty. It deals with loneliness and how to trust a society that has pushed you to the margins for so long in your life. It is focused for children but certainly fit for anime lovers of all ages. I watched this a long time ago. I’m excited to re-watch all 6 seasons.

The Ancient Magus’ Bride

The prize of the private auction walks on stage: a 15-year-old, powerfully magical and untamed redhead. Chained. Bidding starts at 500,000.00. The bid rises and rises. The door opens and a Magus, recluse even to his people, walks down the aisle, on to the stage, and to silence every bidder, announces: “5,000,000.00.” Ainsworth purchases Chise and bring her to her new home.

This is Episode 1. By the end of it, the Magus announces he will not only train Chise to become a fine mage, but also to become his bride and wife.

I watch a few episodes more taking it in. I not the worldbuilding. I note the dialogue. I note the animation and imagery, color. I think and think further, analyzing the characters, witnessing their development.

Praise must neither be written nor uttered.

I write on my journal using my red pen, as I write the most important notes and quotes in red. I remind myself this show has child grooming as its premise. I remind myself that the Anime industry is both wonderful and terrible, filled with visionaries (for the good) and producers that allow damaging misogynists to continue working.

The Parallax View

I have never seen a Warren Beatty movie. The Beatty I know is the man who blew a kiss to his sister, Shirley Maclaine when she received her AFI. Also when Elaine May grave a funny speech about him on his AFI celebration. The big oldies for me are Nicholson, Streep, Temple, Freeman, Caine, O’Toole. The masters who not only work/ed but also acted in “young people” movies— never Beatty. But he’s just so Zaddy.

Roger Ebert’s review to this movie was shady but with merit. But Isabel Sandoval recently “liked” Parrallex on her Letterboxd and I make it a point to prioritize watching what Sandoval watches!

I know that feeling when the world seems unified in disproving and letting you down. Frady attempts to solve the conspiracy of the continuing deaths, those witnesses to an assassination. The deeper he sinks in his research, the more he’s convinced that more than one person was/is involved. The looming realization that all events are systematic comes to view.

“Meticulous” was one description of the movie. It truly is. I love how the brilliant cinematographer, Gordon Willis, combines to binary concepts in one screen. I love how director, Alan J. Pakula, directs and displays the majesty of architecture and scenes in the movie.

A tad too long for the modern watcher? I think it is, a bit. But such a great watch. I feel proud, somewhat, that I was able to sit through and finish a 70s movie.

Not Okay

I have not finished this movie, admittedly. I try to avoid horror and feelings of cringe. I cannot fully bear both. This is not a horror film— the attitude and problem of Danny Sanders (beautifully played by Zoey Deutch) certainly is horrific. And the cringe level this movie exudes is beyond. The film itself is picturesque and acted by stellar starlets.

The few minutes I have watched though is more than enough of a reminder how my generation (and after mine) constantly gravitates towards the needless and superficial. I will finish this film after the cringiness (since last week) has abated.

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… I meant to type more. I meant to add more shows because I’ve watched a lot. In the middle of my small vacation, I began sleeping “normally” again. The “normal” as said my societal experts, 7 to 8 hours. It went on and on. And I slept for 7 to 8 hours at night, woke up as the sunrise heated my room and slept for 7 to 8 hours more.

There was a point when I forced myself to sit in front of the laptop. To get back to work and writing. To finish this post. The words wouldn’t pour out. My hands lay stupid-looking and unmoved on top of the keyboard.

At times when I wasn’t sleeping these long hours, I would only stare, mostly thinking garbled visions of the house, my beloved store, this family and the state I’m in.

Stoicism teaches us that nothing but the self is controllable. Everything else is beyond our swat. To be queer is to have full control of the body and mind. Control of self is stoicism. Stoicism is queerness. I’ve never been far away from queerness than at these moments. Out of body.

How easily my routine for years has collapsed. But my body must have truly needed this.

I shall post this now. No matter how incoherent this post will look or read like. And move on.

References:

1. The Mi’kmaq peoples, Wikipedia

2. Two-spirit Identity and Gender, PHSA

3. Wild Chemistry: The Stars of Wildhood on Romantic Two-Spirit Representation, Letterboxd.com

4. Shirley MacLaine Accepts the 40th AFI Life Achievement Award, YouTube

5. Elaine May On Warren Beatty & HEAVEN CAN WAIT, YouTube.

6. "Mahoutsukai no Yome" is fucking creepy, and I'm unsure as to why people aren't picking up on that, Reddit

7. The Parallax View, Roger Ebert